Deuterocanonical: The Angelic Witness
by Order and Chaos - Qui Iudicant
Summary: The angels have always followed Jesus the Christ around during the Incarnation, from his birth up until the final week of his life. Only one angel, Hael, had not participated. Now she learns some very important lessons of the meaning of the Incarnation—about why the Divine has chosen to live among humankind, to die, and be raised up again to life. (Easter Week)


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**_Ride on! ride on in majesty!_**

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**_Ride on! ride on in masjesty!_**—**Choir of King's College**—(YouTube)

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**_Ride on, ride on in majesty!_**  
**_The winged squadrons of the sky_**  
**_look down with sad and wond'ring eyes_**  
**_to see the approaching sacrifice._**

"Come, come quick! the big day is here!"

Hael sighed as she was pulled along by Naomi through the clouds of Earth's atmosphere. She had forgotten what is was like to move in this place—the gravity was slightly higher than she remembered it… or maybe she had spent too much time else—

"_Hael!_" Naomi's overly-excited voice finally broke through to her. "Haven't you been listening to what I'm saying?"

As she looked over at her fellow "angel"—in fact, there was another word they used to describe themselves, for "angel" in the Hebraic tongue meant messenger, and she hadn't been a messenger at all to this particular Race of Man—Hael wondered what had possessed her to allow this "youngling" to take her along for the ride. Gabriel himself had offered to escort her to the planet Earth. But no, she had to chose the ebullient cherub, one who hadn't even grown into her "wings" yet. In fact, if it weren't for her she mightn't have come at all. Things had never been the same since the Fall of mankind.

"Yes, Naomi, yes I have. Please, just keep quiet—"

"Fiddlesticks, you hadn't been listening!" the other exclaimed. She flipped on her back, ignoring for a moment the Earth-bound physics, and sailed along at the same speed as the rest of the winged troop. "Still pouting after that little incident? You know we can't speak to them—"

"Hush!"

Hael looked around quickly, hoping no one had heard. Fortunately none did. They were all busy singing and dancing through the air, "male" and "female" alike, multicolored wings of divers shapes and sizes flashing through the clouds. Of course none were of either gender, that was for the Races of Men; but each one, according to "his" or "her" temperament took a visible shape whenever they entered the Created Universe. That shape can be of any of the Races, from the human peoples of planet Earth to some of the more exotic-looking beings. Hael herself, because of her tendency to brood and to stay far from home, normally looked like an elder woman, green-skinned and pointed-eared, from a particularly ancient Race of Man, one of the originals who hadn't gone "extinct" yet.

It was the only way—aside from dreams, visions, atmospheric distortions, radio-signals or whatever this set of Realms had to offer—that they could be seen by and communicate openly with those who had not the spiritual sight or hearing to "see" them. It was especially the only way for her to be seen by _them_, let alone communicate…

"Don't let me catch you saying anything about what I've been doing," Hael retorted, her face flushed as she glared at Naomi. It wasn't just because of the wind that it was red. How dare she…

The smaller angel merely smiled and murmured, "Of course, deary, I shan't breathe a word." Then, before Hael could open her mouth, she sped further downwards, darting from angel squadron to squadron and all the while giggling like a maniac.

Of course she could do that—they weren't always the somber-faced creatures many dour Races (particularly the Vulcanian race from the furthermost edges of the Scutum-Centaurus Arm) pictured them as. They could be as happy or carefree as they wished in addition to solemnity. In fact, whenever messengers went to deliver their assigned messages, unless it was of the Father's correcting judgement to erring Races, they always had a kind of giddy-joyfulness hidden underneath a formal manner.

Not that Hael had the liberty to act so, to be happy.

The dense Earthen clouds eventually dissipated into nothingness, and the land of Judæa was before them, the city of Jerusalem sitting atop a number of hills. At this time of year, early spring, the landscape would be blooming with life, both the flora and fauna. It was the beginning of planting time for the farmers here, and, according to Gabriel, it was also the beginning of one of the Judaic feast-days, something called "passover".

Sometimes she wished she'd paid more attention to what else was happening elsewhere in the Created Universe. Such as this day. Hael had to be the only being who did not know of the God-Man, named Jesus, called the Christ by the sons of Adam, living here among the Races of Men as one of them—and nor of the stirring he created wherever he went. Even the angels were surprised. But she had her own problems; too many of them to be interested.

"Oh _Haeeeel!_" Naomi's voice floated back. "Hurry up or you'll miss his entrance!"

Started, Hael broke out of her reverie, and saw she was the only one still drifting about in the sky; the rest were all clustered around the city's gates and about its walls, invisible to the crowds of humanity waving palms and shouting "_Hosanna to the son of David!_" and others. Quickly she raced down to join her angelic brethren.

And just in time too. The gates were open, but no one was moving through, everyone and everything had gone out of the way to let this one man, brown-eyed and -haired, through. A number of others had run before him and were spreading their cloaks all about of the street together with palms and other leafy branches. It was a gesture meant to honor an approaching king, she realized from her perch atop a house, for kings were given special attention by those lower than they.

But this man didn't look at all kingly. Dressed in a simple robe of brown, riding upon a donkey's young colt too furthermore, and wearing nothing to indicate royalty—crowns, robes of scarlet, scepters, and others—he was quite… plain. Certainly he was hardly like the kings of elsewhere in the Universe, such as… No, better not think of _them. _Those poor—

"Hael, again…?"

Naomi's voice brought her to reality once more. "Sorry, sorry," she said hastily as several others looked over to her, eyes of divers hues and shadings glowing with reflected joy. "I was lost in thought."

"Oh riiiight," Naomi trilled. "What could be more important than this?"

_The Fallen_… Hael thought mournfully.

Yes, it was the Fallen. The Exiles. Those long ago angels who had rebelled against Their Father and were cast down for their disobedience. Or so she had heard. Others said that Satan—no one even thought of using his old name—had stomped out of the Realms in fury, leading with him many others who shared in his thinking—a goodly portion of them, too. She herself remembered how close she come to being persuaded by him. Others believed that he had already "fallen" but had stayed one last time to argue with Their Father over… something, then had left in a rage.

But it was not all of the Fallen she was worried over, oh no. Those had their just reward. No, it was a particular group of them labeled "the Exiles" by the rest of the angels. They were different. They were the only ones who had the courage to realize they were wrong, and so come back to ask forgiveness. She remembered that "day" as if it were yesterday, even though by this group of Realms' reckoning it had been many millions of æons ago. Time in the Created Universe was different than that of the Realms of Eternal Light. So different. And yet something she liked too. It was so different from eternity… yet what must it feel like?

If one were to judge from the Exiles, it was not good. Time and again she had tried to communicate with them, to reassure them that Their Father had not forgotten them. She couldn't lead them back, oh no. He had expressively forbidden it—His judgement was Law.

No, what she tried to do was remind them of the forgiveness given to them, that everything would soon be made whole again. Yet they continually forgot. It was as if Time was a curse for them instead of a blessing like it was for the other Races.

What could she do? Nothing.

And now here she was, watching an event that, in all honestly, she should have paid more attention to rather than doing what her heart, and conscience, demanded. How could Their Father be so forgetf—?

_No! _

Hael turned away and left the others abruptly, overcome by emotion. Mercifully none noticed, or seemed to. That was kind on their part, even for Naomi. Spreading her wings, a great wave of red and gold, she took off away from the angels, and glided over to another part of the noisy street. Here at least it was empty of angelic folk, and she could ignore the mortals for a time.

Invisible as she was Hael still folded her wings 'round about, ashamed of herself. Of course Father would not forget. It was against his very nature, and if there was one thing that limited him, it was his own nature—love, justice, goodness, mercy and forgiveness. Among other attributes. Of course, it wasn't a limitation. Nothing was impossible with Father.

_Stupid you! _she berated herself. _Of all the things to say about him. He wouldn't forget. Why would he? _But then, there was the fact that the Exiles, the Fallen yet repentant angels, were forgetful. She tried to help them, yet they refused her help—or rather, they either did not see her, or did _not _see her as she was. No matter how many hints she dropped, they still forgot.

Was she angry that Father did not spare _any _attention to them? Why couldn't they be reconciled with him by now? It had been millions of years, in this Realms' reckoning, since the Fall of man—only a moment of eternity. Why didn't he act?

Or was it that she had gotten too narrow-minded, spending nearly every opportunity within the Created Universe flitting about the Exiles invisibly that she had lost the perspective of eternity? Things were always clearer outside of Time… but even there, many was hidden from her sight. The Future was impenetrable to the angels, despite that they knew, in a general sense, that the Father's plan for all of his creatures would work out the way he intended. Even for the Exiles.

Perhaps that was the problem, she was too impatient. Too stuck on the fate of one group of beings when Father had the concerns of _everything_ before him.

_I am sorry, Father, _she said from within her wings. _I understand now. Please forgive me._

Something from the outside touched her, mentally, in the midst of her thoughts. Something strange. Curious she unwrapped her wings. The view before her was blocked by a thick throng of humanity. The noise too impressed itself upon her ears. The procession had reached where she was, and no doubt the angelic host was above her, following its progress.

She stood, folding her wings back, and started to push through the crowd, driven by something. She did not feel like taking to the air. The people all around her did not notice her, invisible as she was, yet they parted just the same. Hael didn't even take the time—even though it was a mere gesture on her part, a small thing really—to make her wings intangible either.

So it was that as she pushed through, gently as to not alert them, she could feel numerous arms batting against her. It wasn't annoying. Far from it. She needed something to distract her. But the original impetus that got her to stand was growing stronger.

A strange thought grew in her mind. _Wait a moment_…

Hael was suddenly standing at the forefront of the crowd. She blinked, the bright sun glaring down into her eyes. Palms and branches waved about, intermittently breaking the blinding light. The noise had grown stronger too—_"Hosanna!", "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!", "Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!", "Hosanna in the highest!"_—and so had the vivid colors of the city. White and brown, floating dust and leaves, shouting and singing. All of it disorienting, even for an angel.

Then again, with her preoccupation with this Time-bound group of Realms, it wasn't surprising she was confused.

But what had roused her?

Hael looked about, trying to see which of the angels fluttering above her had signaled to her. None seemed to notice her, being too focused on the object of the Jewish people's adoration. Naomi fit right in here; happy, exuberant, and bubbling over with joy. The others were equally oblivious, or perhaps just too excited. Her gaze wandered over the human throng, wondering if perhaps something there had called her. It wouldn't be the first time.

Then, suddenly, her eyes were caught by this one man.

Who happened to be brown-eyed, brown-haired, wearing simple clothing, and riding on a donkey's colt—the center of the attention.

Hael's eyes went wide. _Oh_ _my word_. He had called her? But… but what had she done? Or was she deluding herself? No, that's right, he hadn't seen her. He hadn't called her. It was just happenstance…

Unconsciously, her gaze returned to him from where it had been wandering all over in her near-panic. _Jesus,_ she reminded herself, _that's his name. _There was something magnetic about him, a strange allure that was irresistible, something that compelled her to look.

Then Jesus returned her gaze. He seemed to stare full into her psyche, brown eyes into blue. Hael tried to look away—not once had she seen the Lord face to face, even in the above—but her eyes did not obey her. Everything seemed suddenly irrelevant now. There was no one in the Created Universe but her and Jesus now.

_My daughter, I have not forgotten my lost children, _he seemed to say to her. _They are as important to me as are all the angels and mankind. Rest assured in this. _

_Lord__… they are so alone_… she "answered", not knowing what to say. _So alone. I want to help them._

_And you have helped them, _Jesus said. _You have helped them greatly. Now rest, for it is my turn. _

_But… but how?_ she asked.

_Dear Hael, my life is how. This is why I was born, _came his answer, strange as it was. _My life for all the Fallen you see. _

Then he passed her, hundreds of people following behind him.

Hael stood for the longest time motionless. Not seeing or hearing the crowding people. Stunned. No, more than stunned. Shocked that _he _the Lord would speak to her, face to face, here upon this world. And yet she had to be one of the few—or the only one—who had not been watching him the whole of his earthly life. She the overly concerned angel for a group of people whose fate had already been decided by Father—_and his Son_, her mind added—had spoken to him, here. What had she done to deserve this?

No, it was not her honor, no. Hadn't she heard how Jesus had disregarded all earthly social customs to mingle with undesirables as it was? Surely she was no different, even though higher than any mortal man. Then what was it?

_Stop it, _she said to her mind, _stop running around in circles. _It was not that. She focused on what he had _said _rather than the fact he had spoken.

Then, in a sudden flash of insight, she completely understood, with the intuition that the angelic races were granted with. Everything rushed into her mind, everything that she had missed, all that the others had seen and heard. And she knew what he meant now.

Spreading her wings again, Hael took off and joined the rest of her kin in the air, watching as Jesus rode further into the city. Naomi looked at her curiously. Hael gestured silently that they'd talk later. The other nodded.

At last she understood. It was not only just this one Race of Man here, nor only just all of Mankind. Even the Exiles were included. How this was so was not lost on her. It was such that she even had trouble wrapping her mind all 'round it.

_How blessed are they, _she thought serenely, smiling at last. _How blessed are they. They will never know, not now, of how much Our Father has forgiven them. _

She was even a little envious too, that the Exiles, Fallen beings yet with just as much promise as these human beings down below her, would be granted so much joy—upon so great a sacrifice. _He loves them far more than I ever will, _she thought, _but then, he is Our Father. He who made us all. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord._

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A/N: Happy Palm Sunday. :)

The inspiration for this came from the hymn "Ride on! ride on in Majesty" sung to the tune "Winchester New", and from a role-play character named Hael, based off of the angel of the same name from _Supernatural_. I hadn't watched the show at all, because some have said I'd be too critical of it. For those familiar with the show, please do not take offense. Also, forgive me if the angels sound a little out of character, both Biblical and otherwise. This is one of the first times I've written on angels.

Have a happy pre-Easter Week. I plan on continuing this following the events of Easter Week, but not necessarily as it comes. For meditations on the different days, please check out my FictionPress stories. Your reviews are very much welcome.


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